Blame It on Me
by Dorothea Greengrass
Summary: Prequel to If You Could Read My Mind and Save Me. Ginny remembers her relationship with Harry.
1. Chapter 1

_**August 2000**_

The whole trouble started with that damned hut.

'Isn't it beautiful up here?' my fiancé asked as he released his grip around me.

Was it? I had no idea; I was still trying to get my stomach back under control before I ventured a glance at my surroundings. Side-Along-Apparition doesn't agree with me, and it wouldn't do to vomit all over my fiancé of one day. I cast a quick glance at the huge emerald ring on my left hand that rested on Harry's biceps, and a broad smile appeared on my lips. It had been his mother's ring; I'd almost teared up when he put it on my finger yesterday during my birthday party.

Not that I was dumb enough to cry in front of him; Harry detested crying women.

My rolling stomach gave it a rest. I took a tentative breath: it still kept quiet, thank Merlin.

I raised my head and took in my surroundings.

We stood on an agricultural road that cut through a steep slope. Far beyond us lay a valley, with a small village in the middle. Houses like toy blocks huddled around a church with a steeple of the size of a needle. A rather wild looking river meandered its way through the valley, with a road following its banks. The Muggle cars on that road were nothing more than scurrying ants.

The rest of the valley showed a patchwork blanket of fields. Where the fields ended, a dense larch wood began that ascended the mountains on both sides of the valley. Beyond the trees came alpine pastures, and then rough, naked rocks. Some of the highest peaks wore white caps.

Where, by Merlin's unmentionables, were we?

I had another glance around.

The agricultural road cut smack right through a pasture, dotted with an abundance of alpine summer flowers and herbs, and an equal amount of dried and fresh cowpats. A few cows grazed further down the slope. Each of them had a huge brass bell on a sturdy leather strap around its neck; the bells gave a metallic clank every time the cows moved. It was quiet up here; the only sound that could be heard was the constant clanking of cow bells, some close, some rather far away.

'Where are we?'

My fiancé chuckled. 'We're in the South Tyrolean alps. This pasture here is part of a farm that belongs to my father's family since the middle of the last century. There's a small hut up here where my father used to spend part of his holidays when he was a boy. He brought Mum here to propose, and they spent their honeymoon here. I was most likely conceived it that hut. Mum wrote about that in her diary. Isn't that fantastic?'

I suppressed a shudder. Fantastic? Yeah, if you had a fondness for being alone in the middle of a vast, quiet nowhere. As the youngest member of the boisterous Weasley clan I'd never experienced solitude and quietness, and frankly, the amount of both available up here creeped me out.

'Yeah,' I agreed to humour him. Did he notice how faint my voice sounded?

Harry gave me an exuberant squeeze. 'I knew you'd like it. Come on, let me show you the hut. You'll love it!' He took my hand and pulled me with him, down the steep slope to a tiny brown blob in the emerald pasture.

The hut, I supposed.

One look on his beaming face made me bite back the objections that were already at the tip of my tongue. Harry had known nothing about his parents until his eleventh birthday, and even after then the informations he'd gathered about them were disjointed and few and far between. That changed after the war.

After the Battle of Hogwarts the Goblins of Gringotts had summoned Harry to a meeting. Instead of the punishment for his break-in into their bank he had expected, they wanted to discuss the estate of his late parents and grandparents with him. It turned out that the estate was big enough to cover the damage of at least two dozen break-ins, and the Goblins, as happy as everybody else in the magical world that Harry had freed them of Voldemort, had agreed to settle their bill with Harry and give it a rest. As a result, he got access to all his family vaults.

The amount of gold now available to him surpassed the wealth of the Malfoys. Which was nice; I was a Weasley, and would most likely pop out at least half a dozen babies as soon as I was ready for that. It was good to know Harry could afford a big family, and I wouldn't have to suffer the same financial restrictions as my mother.

Harry, bless his soul, didn't squander one thought on that. All that mattered to him were the family heirlooms he could access, among them the diaries of his mother. They had become his most cherished possession, and he acquainted himself with the houses his ancestors had left to him to form the long missed connection to his roots. I'd gathered that much from reading between the lines of the short letters he wrote to me while I was still kicking my heels at Hogwarts. Harry still didn't like to talk about himself.

That tiny hut below us was a part of that ancestry. Because of the connection to Harry's parents it held a special place in his heart. I understood where he came from, but that didn't mean I liked it. Couldn't his parents have spent their honeymoon in one of the more comfortable houses? Merlin knew there were enough of them.

The brown blob didn't become much bigger as I stood in front of it. People would think it picturesque, I guess. Wooden flower boxes with flaming red geraniums adorned the tiny windows. There was a wooden bench which looked like the half of a log, with a long table in front, protected from a sudden rain by the overhanging roof. An open, wooden water channel led from a well hidden in the rocks to the right of the hut to a wooden trough made from a hollowed out tree log in front of it. The excess sipped over one end of the trough, and from there a small rivulet worked its way through the pasture below the hut until it joined the brook further down on the slope.

Harry pointed towards the trough. 'Our private supply of fresh water.'

I flinched. He was taking the mickey, wasn't he?

'Everything alright, Ginny?' He gave me a look from under furrowed eyebrows.

Merlin, he looked like a small boy who showed his best friends his toys and was disappointed he didn't get the delighted reaction he had hoped for. I forced a big smile on my face. 'Yeah, I'm fine. Something bit me.'

Harry gave another chuckle. 'Sorry, all the droppings the cows and goats leave behind are a never ending delight for a lot of sting-happy insects, I'm afraid. It'll get better in autumn, after the cattle has been driven down into the valley.'

Would it? I had no intention ever to find out.

He held the door of the hut open for me and gave me a disarming smile that made his emerald eyes sparkle. 'Do you know how long I've waited for the day I could bring you here? The last two years with you back at Hogwarts weren't easy, you know.'

My heart melted on the spot. He was right, the last two years had been difficult for us.

Harry and I had got back together the day after the Battle of Hogwarts. It was a time of loss and mourning; our love for each other was the only bright spot in a world of destruction, and together we somehow muddled through the first weeks after the war. A cold shower ran down my spine, and I bit my lips As a rule, I didn't allow myself to think of those times. Best keep the bad memories locked up and concentrate on what was still to come.

I pushed the memories of the battle and the many funerals away. Our summer after the war was magic, we spent every wake moment together and got to know each other. Harry would join the Aurors in September, and I had tryouts with several professional Quidditch clubs. By unspoken agreement we were planning on moving together in September.

Alas, the Ministry for Magic and my parents screwed up our plans. Ministerial Educational Decree Number 37b stated that students who'd been enrolled at Hogwarts during the last year of the war and wanted to continue their education there had to repeat that year. Even though I'd just come of age, my parents insisted I ought to get my N.E.W.T.s before I started my professional Quidditch career. How could I refuse their wish after all they'd been through?

So I went back to Hogwarts in September. Hermione and Ron came with me, which made things more bearable.

Harry, however, joined an accelerated training programme with the Auror Department. Over the next two years he pushed himself to finish his training in record time. I could count the number of times we saw each other in these years on the fingers of one hand. Time for writing letters was also scarce. I'd received maybe a dozen letters from him. I couldn't complain about that, I wasn't the most frequent writer, either.

However, he'd made up for that horrible time yesterday, when he proposed for me in front of our family and friends. My parents had been delighted, and so were my brothers, except for Ron, come to think of it. He and Hermione had exchanged a rather strange look -.

'What do you think?' Harry's voice cut into my memories.

We'd crossed the threshold into the tiny hut, and I had a look around.

It was worse than expected. There was a tiled oven, a wood-burning stove, and a shelf with a rather meagre collection of kitchen tools at the far wall of the hut. A wooden bench with a matching table and two chairs made up the rest of the interior. The red-patterned cushions on the chairs and the matching tablecloth and curtains on the tiny windows didn't make up for the primitiveness of the room.

Merlin, there wasn't even a decent upholstered chair here.

A steep ladder at the right side led up to a hatch in the ceiling. I pointed at the hatch with my thumb. 'What's up there?'

'Uh… the bedroom,' Harry said, and turned red.

I gave him a blinding smile. 'Won't you show me?'

We'd started sleeping with each other not even a week after the battle. The physical closeness gave us the comfort we both needed. However, in a house as crowded as the Burrow the necessary privacy for these interesting activities was scarce, and our schedules over the last two years had limited our options even further. I hardly remembered our last time together.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath. A broad grin appeared on his handsome face. 'As my lady wishes.'

He went ahead on the ladder, opened the hatch, and climbed through.

I followed him with a certain degree of dread in my stomach. Would the rest of the hut be as primitive as the ground floor?

Alas, it was.

The low bed under the tiny window took up most of the space. A wardrobe, with a pattern of naïve-painted roses on it, made up the rest of the furniture.

I looked around; there was no other door in the room. 'Uh, Harry, where's the bathroom?'

The dratted man chuckled and pointed with his finger towards another brown blob further down the slope. 'The privy is down there. You must heat water from the trough on the stove for washing up.'

My eyes became wide. 'No shower?' How was I supposed to keep my hair in its shiny, flawless condition without a proper shower?

Harry shook his head. 'Sorry, no. It's a little rough up here, I'm afraid.'

No kidding. I averted my face and bit my lips. How was I supposed to survive this weekend?

Warm breath touched the side my neck, followed by soft lips, and two arms wrapped around my waist.

'Don't you think we have more important things to discuss right now?'

A delicious heat spread in my stomach, and my knees became weak. He was right, of course. I turned around in his arms, slung my arms around his neck, and kissed him.

It didn't take much more to set both of us on fire.

Harry manoeuvred me towards the bed, his hands already roaming under my shirt. A wide, soft bed was all we needed that weekend, so who cared about the rest of the hut?

I sank down onto the mattress. It was lumpy and hard. Damn, could that cursed hut get any worse?

Harry's lips traced their way down my jaw and my throat, and his hands shoved up my shirt.

Merlin, it had been too long. His ministrations blew the disappointment about our uncomfortable accommodations right out of my head, and I concentrated on showing my fiancé I had missed him as much as he had missed me.

* * *

 _ **August to December 2000**_

I survived the weekend.

On Sunday evening, Harry locked the door of the hut with his wand, turned towards me, and took me in his arms. 'We had a fantastic weekend, don't you agree? What do you think of a repeat the weekend after next? I'm on duty next weekend, unfortunately.'

He was taking the mickey, was he? I raised my head.

His emerald eyes looked as eager and expectant as those of a little boy.

My heart dropped into the deepest pit of my stomach. How to get out of this without hurting him? 'Uh, we promised Hermione to help her move into her new flat, remember? And I really ought to spend some time with my family that weekend. After all, I'll be moving to the Harpies' dorms on their training ground after that, and I won't get leave until Christmas.'

The Holyhead Harpies had accepted me as a chaser for their reserve team, and training would start in the last week of August. I looked forward to it; it was another childhood dream coming true, beside marrying The-Boy-Who-Lived. On the downside, their management was rather strict. For the first year my time wouldn't be mine. I had to stay on the training ground most of the time; visits to family and friends had to be approved before and staying out overnight outside of the meagre ten days off I got during my first year was out of the question.

His shoulders sagged at my words, and the light disappeared from his gorgeous eyes.

My stomach gave an uncomfortable squirm. Merlin, I hated to disappoint him, and I wasn't looking forward to long, lonely weeks without him, not after our passionate weekend. However, it couldn't be helped, and at least it prevented me from having to return to that dratted hut.

I raised on my tiptoes and kissed him to convey my regret. He wrapped his arms around me and returned the kiss. Harry kissed like a god, and we both had broad smiles on our faces when we broke apart.

That were our last undisturbed moments together for a long time. Harry returned to his work on Monday. Something came up at the Auror Department during that week, as he told me in a short, scribbled note, and his next free weekend - my last weekend before training camp - was cancelled.

I was not happy about that.

Mum cried hot tears when I left the Burrow for my new quarters at the Harpies' dorm on the last Monday in August. No surprise there: the last duckling left the nest. Ron roomed with Harry on Grimmauld Place ever since he'd started Auror training one year ago.

My new life with the Harpies was crammed with training, physiotherapy, press conferences and promotional events, not to mention all the time I had to bond with my new teammates, and the additional lessons I had to take in preparation for the time when my career would be over and I had to look for a job. Every professional Quidditch player knew it took only one unlucky shot of a Bludger to get there. I hardly had time to read Harry's few letters, let alone answering them, though I missed him.

The Harpies' management policy encouraged boyfriends, fiances and husbands to join the team for the games and outings whenever possible, and I passed that invitation on to Harry. During my first year with the team it was about the only way for us to spend time together, albeit always in a big crowd.

'Is your boyfriend coming to today's game?' my fellow rookie teammate Aubrianna Davies asked when we walked out to the pitch to take our places on the bench for the second home game of the season at the beginning of November.

'Fiancé,' I said. My heart beat in my chest like a drum. Harry had been on duty for the first game of the season, but he'd promised to come today.

That got me a sceptical side glance. 'You never wear your engagement ring.'

'We're not allowed to wear jewellery during training or on the pitch,' I said.

She let out a short laugh. 'True; sorry, that escaped my mind.'

We'd reached the pitch and sat down on the bench. The Harpies' fans gave our team an exuberant and noisy reception. They focussed on the popular players, like Gwenog Jones, and they overlooked Aubrianna and me. Oh, I couldn't wait until it was my name they were singing.

I sat next to our physiotherapist, Taylor Atkinson. She scooted closer and leaned against me. 'They say Harry Potter is here today.' She had to shout over the noise of the game.

A jolt seemed to go through Aubrianna, and she startled upright. 'Where?'

Taylor pointed towards the box reserved for family and friends of team members. I glimpsed black hair above stylish glasses. When had he got himself new spectacles? The last time I'd seen him he'd worn the silver coloured round frames he'd got right after the battle.

'Wicked,' Aubrianna said. 'I didn't know he had connections to the Harpies. Who do you think invited him? The manager? I wonder if he's got a girlfriend.' Her eyes never let Harry out of their sight.

I didn't like her hungry expression one bit although I shouldn't be surprised by her speculations. Until now, Harry and I had kept our relationship private. Whenever we'd met during these last two years, it had been within the wards of the Burrow, or we'd ventured out into the Muggle world.

The game dragged on for hours. Neither Aubrianna nor I were brought on. No surprise there, we still were new on the team and had to learn a lot. It was already well after dinner time when Kelly Vanderburg, our star Seeker, caught the Snitch and ended the game 310:160 in favour of the Harpies.

We joined the boisterous celebrations of the team in the locker rooms. I have no idea how long it took for us to celebrate, and for the players to cool down and have their injuries treated, until everybody was changed and we left the locker room for the traditional dinner with our family members and friends who had watched the game, and the victory party.

I craned my neck to find Harry in the throng of family members and friends that had huddled together against the icy November rain in the entrance towards the locker rooms. You should think witches and wizards knew how to protect themselves against rain and cold.

It took me a couple of moments to grasp they weren't looking for shelter: they were harassing my poor fiancé.

Harry shot me a helpless glance over the heads of the wizards and witches who crowded around him to shake his hand or ask for an autograph. My teammates added to the hubbub.

'It's Harry Potter!' Gwenog screamed. As one, the idiotic women swooped down on the crowd around Harry and tried to push their way through to him. All of them fit, young athletes, they made quick progress.

They pushed me aside like a tidal wave and I hardly kept myself from falling.

Harry's eyes widened until the white showed, and he gaped at the onslaught of two dozen women: players, trainer and co-trainer, the whole physiotherapist team and our manager and her assistant.

He gave me an almost desperate look, turned on the spot, and Apparated away.

That was his first and last attempt to meet with me after the games. I didn't blame him for his decision to stay away although I was disappointed and furious at my teammates.

Oh well, at least we were going to spend Christmas together.

About a week before Christmas I received another of Harry's short letters.

 _Kingsley ordered me to attend to the Ministry's New Year Ball this year._ _I've skived off last year and the year before, but that is not an option this time._ _Do you want to come with me? It will be much more fun with you by my side,_ he wrote.

I let out a little squeal. The Ministry New Year Ball was the social event of the year in the wizarding world. Only those at the top of our society got invitations. Dad had been invited, of course, since he was the head of a department, albeit a small one. However, he and mum had always declined and preferred to stay at the Burrow.

Harry and me attending the ball together would be our first official appearance as an engaged couple. Merlin, I needed a ball gown, and somehow I needed to find the time to do something with my hair. Maybe Hermione would help with that -.

'Good news?' Aubrianna's voice interrupted my frantic thoughts.

I shot her a broad smile. 'The best. My fiancé got an invitation to the Ministry New Year Ball and asked me to come with him.'

Aubrianna let out a whistle. 'Wow!'

'Yeah.' My smile was so broad my face hurt.

'Sorry to spoil your fun, but you'd better turn him down, Weasley,' our trainer's voice said from behind me. She put a hand each on Aubrianna's and my shoulder. 'We're scheduled for a couple of friendly games with teams of the Australian league. You're both part of the selection, _and_ you'll have a starting position. Our International Portkey is due on the twentieth, and we won't be returning before mid-January.'

My heart skipped a beat, then thumped against my ribcage like a hammer. I'd made it to a starting position! Well, it was a friendly game, so it didn't count for the British league, but it was a start, and with a little luck I would make a few goals and begin to forge a name for myself.

Aubrianna and I looked at each other, eyes wide, screamed, and hugged.

The trainer regarded us with an indulgent eye and waited until we calmed down. 'Come with me, I'll give you the details,' she said.

We followed her into her office and spent the next hour going over the details of our trip to Australia.

Harry and the ball not once entered my mind.

I had special chaser training after that, followed by training with the team, and a meeting about game strategics. My day ended with dinner with the team, and a gathering in the common room.

I didn't think of Harry and the ball again before I lay in my bed. What a shame I couldn't make it to the ball, I would've loved to dance the night away with Harry. We hadn't seen each other since August. However, this was important for my career; Harry would understand I couldn't pass that chance. After all, he was as crazy about Quidditch as I was.

* * *

 _ **December 2000 to January 2001**_

Harry understood. He's such a dear.

 _This is a chance you can't let slip through your fingers. You'll be awesome and knock their socks off! XXX_

I smiled as I stuffed his letter into the pocket of my training robes. Was there ever such a supportive fiancé like Harry? Though, it was a shame about the ball; I would've loved to appear at the Ministry on his arm. Hah, that would've showed all those snooty girls who'd made fun of me at Hogwarts, like Romilda Vane and the Slytherin bitches. Poor Harry, he'd spend the night like we did last year: at the Burrow with mum and dad, listening to a Celestina Warbeck special on the wireless.

On the twentieth of December I took the International Portkey to Down Under with my teammates. The tournament was a blast. We won each game, and I made it leading goal scorer. And my, the after-game-parties the Aussies threw!

There was only one fly in my ointment: Harry wasn't here to celebrate my success with me.

Despite a big dose of George's Helluva Hangover Potion a rather bleary-eyed me joined my team for breakfast on the first Sunday of January. Last night's victory party had got out of hand. I had a vague recollection of dancing on a table, together with Aubrianna and Kelly, a bottle of Firewhisky in my hand, until Taylor came and ushered us to bed.

I gave a good morning in the general direction of the team, got a few murmured greetings in reply, sunk down in a chair next to Taylor, and poured myself a strong, black coffee.

Taylor looked up from her breakfast and gave me an amused side glance although she was smart enough not to comment.

Which suited me fine; I hate sermons at the breakfast table.

The trainer appeared from the lobby, a stack of newspapersin her hand. ' _The Daily Prophet_ from last Monday, just delivered from London to Oz by express-owl. Anyone interested in the latest gossip about the Ministry New Year's Ball?'

Most of my team members, as banged up by last night's festivities as I, declined. Taylor, however, took a newspaper from the trainer. She leaned back in her chair and unfolded it.

The next moment she gasped. 'I can't believe it; Harry Potter's got a girlfriend.'

All heads around the table shot up, mine included. How had the _Prophet_ found out about Harry and me?

Taylor put the newspaper on the table and pointed at the big picture on the front page. 'Look at this!'

The front page of Monday's _Prophet_ showed a huge photo of Harry in immaculate black dress robes with a white shirt, waistcoat and tie below. On his arm was a blonde beauty in a gorgeous powder blue ball gown. They both had broad smiles on their faces and each held a golden medal out to the photographer, then looked at each other, and their smiles became even broader.

A huge fist hid me midriff, and the blood in my veins seemed to freeze on the spot. My stomach, still upset from too much Firewhisky, gave a hard lurch. Bile rose in my throat, and I clenched my teeth together not to throw up across the breakfast table.

What was that all about? Who was that woman? What did she mean to Harry? Merlin, the way they'd looked at each other - as if they shared a secret, like partners in crime.

Partners in cheating on me?

I raised a fist to my mouth and bit into the knuckles of my hand to suppress the tears that welled up in my eyes.

The pain somewhat brought me back to my senses. My teammates had gathered around Taylor like the chicken in my parent's backyard at the feed and clucked about the photo. At least that took the attention off me.

'Is this his girlfriend?' Kelly asked. 'Who is it?'

That was a valid question. The girl looked somewhat familiar. Had she been at Hogwarts with us? She'd not been a member of the D.A. then, I was friends with most.

Taylor scanned the article below the photo. 'It's Daphne Greengrass.'

That elicited a round of loud exclamations and whistles from my teammates.

'A Greengrass? I had no idea the Chosen One is into society girls,' Aubrianna shouted over the hubbub.

"He isn't," was at the tip of my tongue. I clamped my mouth shut and fought another wave of nausea. The Harry I knew didn't give a fig about social standing. However, who was gentleman pod-Harry who seemed to have replaced my loving fiancé in that photo? My Harry never would've associated with a snake -

'Hold your Hippogriffs, girls,' Taylor said and looked up from the article. 'That Greengrass chick isn't his girlfriend. Seems Skeeter asked them that. They both claimed they came to the ball together as coworkers since their better halves both are out of the country and they had to appear because they were awarded a medal for special services to the Ministry.'

My stomach gave another lurch; this time a relieved one. So, Greengrass was taken and had no designs on Harry. 'What services?' I asked.

Taylor skimmed the article once again. 'Something about improvements for the Auror department. Magical forensics, whatever that is. Seems Potter had the idea, and Greengrass is the Unspeakable who developed it together with him. Oh, and Potter was promoted to Senior Auror. The youngest ever.'

I took a deep breath and raised my chin, a huge smile on my face. This sounded like my Harry. Why didn't he tell me about his achievements? He was so ridiculously modest. Or had he wanted to surprise me? It was like him not to mention anything when I told him about the planned tour to Australia not to get in my way. I lowered my head to hide my expression from my teammates.

I was already planning a special celebration for him in my head. There was no doubt Harry would like every bit about it.

* * *

 _ **January 2001**_

The team and I returned to England mid-January. For the first time since August, I got a day off. Well, not a whole day. I had just time enough for a quick visit with my loved ones before I had to return to the dorms.

'Don't forget to be back by curfew,' the trainer called after me as I walked to the Apparition Point at the International Portkey Terminal.

I raised my hand to show her I'd heard her, determined not to waste a single second of my precious time off with last-minute admonitions. I swear, our trainer was worse than mum.

At the thought of my mother I had a pang of bad conscious. I hadn't been home for over three months, and she missed me, her letters had made that clear. Of course I missed her too, but there was someone I missed even more. I concentrated, turned on the spot, and appeared in the unkempt shrubbery of the garden of Grimmauld Place.

The houses around the square were as grey and shabby as ever, the windows closed against the wet cold, so no noise spilled out and the place was as quiet as I've ever heard it. I concentrated on the joining between house number eleven and number thirteen, and number twelve shimmered into place.

From the outside it looked as shabby and forbidding as the rest of the place. I crossed the place with long strides, pulled my wand out of the pocket of my robes and tapped the tip against the familiar black door of number twelve. It could have used a new coat of paint, and so could have the windows that were visible from where I stood.

The door creaked open; Kreacher's ugly face stared up at me. It became even darker when he recognised me, and a sneer passed over his wrinkled features.

'Good afternoon, Kreacher. Is Harry at home?'

The ancient elf made no move to let me into the house. 'Master Harry still bes at the Ministry.'

I glanced at my wristwatch and frowned. It was a quarter past five, so Harry should be home by now. It took only a few seconds to get from the Ministry to Grimmauld Place by Floo or Apparition.

'What about my brother?'

'Mister Ron bes in the kitchen.'

I drew a deep breath to calm myself. Kreacher had changed his attitude towards Harry, Ron and Hermione sometime during the war, and was polite to any other visitors. For a reason I didn't understand he still hated me, and would treat me like scum whenever Harry wasn't around and ordered him to treat me decent.

'May I come in and visit with my brother then?'

Kreacher hesitated, but opened the door just wide enough for me to slip through. 'If Miss Weezy wish,' he said, and cast me a look calculated to make my blood freeze in my veins.

Damned elf!

I slipped into the house. Inside, it had changed a lot from the gloomy place I had learned to hate when we hid here the summer after Voldemort's return. Harry had removed the portrait of Mrs Black, the troll umbrella stand, and the elve's heads on the once dark wall. Instead he had painted the entrance hall and the stairs in a creamy off-white, and a dark green carpet covered the floor. An additional rooflight provided daylight.

I shrugged out of my winter cloak and put it on one of the gleaming brass pegs of the modern wardrobe.

Kreacher didn't make a move to help me. He closed the door, gave me another glare full of hate, and Apparated away with a resounding crack.

I shrugged my shoulders and walked down to the kitchen in search of my older brother. I found him at the long kitchen table, gobbling down a delicious smelling stew from the bowl in front of him. Some things never change.

At the sound of the opening door he looked up, and his face lit up as he saw me. He dropped his spoon into the bowl, not caring that blobs of stew splashed on the flat of the table, jumped up and rushed towards me to give me a bear hug that rivalled mum's finest.

'Ginny! What brings you here?'

'I wanted to see my fiancé. Kreacher told me he isn't back from work yet, so I thought I'd wait for him and have a chat with my brother. Which was a bad idea; you're suffocating me, Ron.'

'Sorry.' He laughed and let go of me, rather red in the face. He ran a hand through his hair. 'I have no idea when Harry will be back. He said something about a series of tests he and Greengrass are running and disappeared towards the Department of Mysteries after his shift. Considering how these two can get caught up in their work -.' He broke off.

My stomach hardened, and heat shot into my face. Greengrass again! I bit my lips and forced myself not to show how hurt I was. 'I read about the medal Harry got for the improvements he made, together with her. I would've thought there's no need for continuing their cooperation anymore.'

Ron turned toward the cold cupboard, opened it, took out two bottles of butterbeer, and opened them with a lazy flick of his wand, his back turned to me. 'Well, that was just the beginning. Harry has big plans for modernising the methods of investigation at the Auror Department, or visions, rather. Greengrass is just the right woman to help him make his visions come true.' He turned around, handed one bottle to me and took a swig from his own bottle.

I clenched my teeth until my jaw hurt. A green-eyed, scaly monster raised its ugly head in my chest and growled. I'd had no idea it lived there, and I didn't like it one bit. If I couldn't trust Harry, who could I trust then?

I forced myself to relax and took a sip of butterbeer to clear my throat.

'Is there a way to let Harry know I'm here? I'd hate to miss him; we haven't seen each other in ages.'

My brother gave me a look full of sympathy. 'This can't be easy for your guys. Harry isn't one for talking, but I know he misses you like crazy.' He put his bottle on the table and walked towards the fireplace. 'I'll see what I can do.'

Warmth spread in my chest. Harry missed me!

Ron threw a pinch of Floo Powder into the flames, knelt down as they flared up green, and stuck his head into the fireplace.

I waited with bated breath.

A few moments later he pulled his head back, a huge grin on his face. Instead, Harry's beaming face appeared in the flames.

'Ginny? I can't believe it! Had I known… Hold on a sec, will you?' He turned his head and said something I couldn't understand. The response was loud and clear through the open Floo connection.

'Get your scrawny arse out of here and kiss your fiancée, Potter. Merlin knows you've been moping around enough to drive me up the walls,' a warm female voice said, a trace of laughter in it.

'I hate to let you deal with the test series of your own.' That was Harry's voice.

'Do I have to remind you who's the professional here, Potter? I've taught you everything you know, so I should be insulted about you implying I can't handle the tests on my own. I said, out with you, and don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

'This leaves me with all kinds of possibilities.' Harry laughed. 'Thanks, Greengrass, you're a real friend.'

The back of his head disappeared, and the next moment Harry tumbled out of the Floo and ended sprawled on the floor at my feet.

Ron snorted into his butterbeer. 'I know you adore my sister, mate, but do you have to be so obvious about it?'

Harry's hand reached for his spectacles and adjusted them on his nose, while his eyes shot emerald daggers at my brother as he tried to sort his limbs.

Not at all impressed, Ron drained his bottle of butterbeer and pushed himself from the kitchen counter he was leaning on. 'I'd better leave and give you some privacy. I don't want to lose my dinner.' He turned around and left the room, with a small wave of his hand at us.

'What a joker,' I said.

'Yeah.' The next moment Harry was back on his feet and swept me in his arms. His mouth descended on mine, and all other thoughts than being back with him went straight out of my head.

We soon moved to Harry's bedroom for a long and passionate celebration of our reunion. Harry even knew the exact number of days we hadn't seen each other.

'One-hundred-fifty-five,' he said and pulled me into another sweet kiss. 'That's far too long for my liking.'

'I hear you.' I adjusted myself on his chest. 'We somehow must make it until the end of the first year of my contract. Everything will be easier after that since I'll have more freedom. I'll get my days off at the end of August. Maybe we can slip away for some quality time together?'

He tightened his arms around me. 'Sounds lovely. We could go to the hut. Nobody would disturb us there.'

My stomach dropped. Not the damned hut again! At least Harry didn't see my expression.

'Uh - I was thinking about something warmer than the mountains. I'd love to have a swim in the mornings.'

A low laugh rumbled through Harry's chest. 'As my lady wishes. I want our short time together being perfect. My grandparents left me a house in the south of France. What do you think of spending our holidays there?'

I threw my arms around his neck and peppered his face with kisses. 'That's wonderful, love.'

Harry replied in kind, and within seconds we forgot everything around us. I doubt we would've left the bedroom that day, hadn't my stomach given an audible growl.

My fiancé cast me an amused side glance. 'You can't deny you're a Weasley, love. Come on, let's get you fed.' He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked for his boxers.

I followed with some reluctance, not yet ready for our special time to end, and not at all looking forward to dinner under Kreacher's hateful eyes. If the elf could get away with it, he'd probably put poison in my food.

Harry, bless his sweet soul, somehow sensed my unease, and he took me to a small Italian restaurant near Grimmauld place. It was a picturesque place, with red and white checkered tablecloths, candles in wickerbottles, and braided strings of garlic bulbs everywhere.

'I like it here,' I said.

'I'm glad.' Harry took my hand and played with my fingers. 'I come here whenever I need a time out from Kreacher's fussing. As much as he has changed, he still hasn't warmed up to you, and I didn't want him to listen into our conversation.'

'How thoughtful of you.' I blew him a small kiss across the table. 'Anything important you want to discuss?'

'No, just catching up, I guess. Tell me, how was Australia?'

A huge grin spread across my face, and over our dinner I told him each detail of our games. Harry never took his eyes from my face, a soft smile on his lips, as he listened to me prattle on and on. We both started at a soft, buzzing noise coming from his right wrist.

Harry glanced at his wristwatch. 'Time to get Cinderella back to the dorms,' he said. 'I don't want you to get in trouble for missing curfew.'

I frowned, my eyes still on his wrist. 'Where's that sound coming from?'

'I set a timer on my wand so you won't miss curfew,' Harry said in a low voice, mindful of the surrounding Muggles.

'Yeah, I get that. But where's your wand?'

'It's in an invisible wand holster on my wrist.'

'Wicked.' I would've liked to hear more about that, but Harry signalled the waiter for the bill. A few minutes later, he led me to the shrubbery of the garden Grimmauld Place so I could Apparate to the Harpies' dorms without being seen.

It was already late; I had only a few minutes to spare, so we shared a last kiss, and I left.

That night in my bed at the dorms I replayed the happy hours with Harry in my mind. He had been so sweet and caring. Back then, it didn't occur to me we'd only talked about me, and he hadn't told me one thing that was going on in his life. Neither had I thought of asking him.

 _t.b.c_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to J.K.R.

* * *

 _ **New Year 2002**_

The ball gown was like something out of a fairy tale. I twisted and turned in front of the long mirror in Harry's and my bedroom at Grimmauld Place number twelve, admiring the graceful way the soft folds of the multi-layered wide chiffon petticoats swirled around me.

'You're gorgeous.'

I looked over my shoulder.

My fiancé, fresh out of the shower and clad in nothing but a towel slung around his narrow hips, stood in the doorway. The desire in his emerald eyes as he took in my appearance drove a flush of heat through my body. When again were we expected at the Ministry New Year Ball?

'No time for that, love,' Harry said with a grin. As always, he had no problems reading my expression. He walked over to the chest of drawers and took out some fresh underwear. 'Cream and gold suits you. You look lovely.'

'Do you think so?' I ran my hands down the tight bodice of the dress and gave my image in the mirror an uneasy glance. Hundreds of tiny cream-coloured flowers, each with an even tinier golden pearl in the middle, were stitched onto the golden satin of the bodice. A band of golden satin marked my waist, and below that a smattering of flowers was scattered on the top layer of the flowing, cream-coloured chiffon skirt until just below my hips. Never before in my life I'd worn something that exquisite - or that expensive, for that matter.

My earnings had increased since I'd been promoted to a starting position with the Harpies at the beginning of the new season. That also meant additional gold from promotional contracts. However, years of frugality had left their mark on me, and when Mr Gladrag showed me the gown I had hesitated to spend so much gold on robes I was supposed to wear only once.

Harry had laughed at me. 'What use is gold sitting in a vault?' he'd asked me and bought the gown for me, not heeding my protests.

They were half-hearted, anyway. Harry loved to spoil me rotten, and I loved to see his beaming face, so it was a win-win for both of us.

It also made up for a lot.

My first year with the Harpies had ended in August, and with that also my obligation to live in the dorms of the team. I'd moved in with Harry right away.

Our first weeks together had been magical. We'd spent a week at the French riviera, in a house Harry had inherited from his grandparents. Harry still had some time off when my training started again. Each night he'd prepare dinner for us, and he'd help me with my additional lessons. On the weekends we'd explore London, or take short trips to Paris.

Harry would have loved to return to the hut in the mountains, I'm sure, but I managed to talk him out of it.

Things changed when Harry had to work again in September, and my training schedule picked up, and they changed even more when the season started in October and I had a game each Saturday.

I never would've thought my fiancé was a workaholic. I knew as an Auror he'd have to work shifts and was prepared for having to spend some evenings on my own. However, I hadn't counted on him coming home late even on the nights he hadn't to work night shifts.

It was his damned project.

To be fair, Harry had tried to explain it to me during our holidays in France. He'd told me about the development of forensic sciences in the Muggle world, about how the Muggles set up the first criminal laboratories at the beginning of the last century, and the phenomenal progress Muggle investigators made ever since the development of the DNA analysis. Now Harry tried to introduce something like that in the wizarding world. I understood not even half of it; the stuff was rather boring, and I had a hard time not to fall asleep during his explanations.

'You'll fail,' I told him. 'Magic and Muggle sciences don't mix. Wizards and witches won't rely on Muggle methods, anyway. They are used to do everything by magic and to look down on anything Muggle.'

'We'll see,' was all Harry replied.

I knew him well enough to know he wouldn't give up. It was all in the determined way he raised his chin and looked out onto the sea from the terrace of the house, and in the angry flash of his gorgeous eyes. For all his gentleness and admirable qualities my fiancé was as stubborn as a donkey.

In the end, I was smart enough not to protest his long hours at the Ministry. I wasn't in the position for that, either. My schedule soon was full to the brim, too. Even though I'd moved out of the dorms, I had to stay until late in the night at the Harpies' training grounds four nights out of five, to attend to team meetings, or to get extra tutoring in my additional classes. I'd never been academically inclined, and had a hard time to grasp the basics of magical office management, the trade I'd chosen as an alternative if my chaser career went south.

On Saturdays, I'd leave early to meet with the team in preparation for the game. Harry still refused to come to my games - with good reason. Somehow we'd managed to keep our relationship away from prying eyes, and we both agreed to keep it that way as long as possible. This would be impossible if Harry turned up for my games on a regular base, not to mention that he'd be mobbed by our fans and my teammates. I'd stay with my team for the obligatory dinner and get-together afterwards. Since it always involved drinking, I'd rather spend the night at the dorms than Apparating drunk and risking to splinch myself.

Thus Harry and I hardly had spent time together since October. We had breakfast together and had the Sunday afternoons to ourselves, but it all depended on Harry's shifts, and the duration of my games. Most nights either Harry or I would crawl into bed when the other one was already sound asleep.

There were perfectly sensible reasons for our live being like it was; we both loved our jobs and were working hard to make our path. And yet I was disappointed. We were like trains on different tracks, occasionally meeting in the same station, and then drifting off into different directions once again until the next stop. I wasn't as naïve as to expect our relationship being a never-ending pink coloured fairy tale; that's not the way real life works. But I'd surely expected more closeness, for lack of a better word.

I turned away from the mirror with a silent sigh, sat down on the bench at the dresser to wait for Harry getting ready, and stretched out my left hand and admired the sparkling of my engagement ring in the soft light of the Everlasting Candles. My thoughts still dwelled on the few months since I'd moved in with Harry.

Maybe after tonight things would change, maybe I'd be more involved in his life.

A couple of weeks ago, Gawain Robards, the current Head Auror, had pulled Harry aside. Robards would be retiring in four years, and he'd told Harry he was going to groom him as his successor. Strange enough, Harry had not shied away from that; instead he'd grabbed the opportunity with both hands.

'Why?' I'd asked him. 'That ambition doesn't sound like you, Harry.' It was one of the rare evenings we were both at home at a reasonable time, and we'd made ourselves comfortable in front of the fireplace in the living room.

He hadn't looked at me. His eyes stared into the flames, focussed on something only he was able to see. 'I want change, Ginny, in the Auror Department as well as in the Ministry, heck, in our whole world. Compared to the Muggles, we're so far behind.'

My chest tightened. What kind of nonsense was that? I crossed my arms and pinched my lips. 'You want us to become like Muggles?'

'No, not at all.' He shook his head, still not looking at me. 'Although it wouldn't hurt for wizards and witches to make a better effort to adjust. How difficult is it to keep up with today's Muggle fashion and not to talk about magic in public Muggle places? As it is, the Obliviators are the busiest department at the Ministry.' He ran a hand through his hair until it stood up even messier than before. 'I want the freedom and rights the Muggles have won for themselves for our society, Ginny. Democracy and equal rights for all, no nepotism, and a broad-based education to better our world.'

Demo what? What was he talking about? And what, by Merlin's saggy balls, was wrong with our education? It had been good enough for our parents and grandparents, and we'd done well enough, too.

He left me no time to utter the objections and questions on my mind, turned around and grasped both of my hands in his. 'I won't be able to achieve the change I want as simple Senior Auror Harry Potter. Our world is still ruled by old men and women from the powerful families, and they wouldn't listen to me. I have to make a name for myself within the system. Becoming Head Auror is the first step.'

My stomach gave a sudden jolt and then dropped down to my knees. The first step? What was supposed to be the last? Minister for Magic? Since when was Harry so ambitious?

It became even worse.

'I'm determined to make my way through the ranks, as are my friends and allies. We're going to put our stamp onto our world, be it within the Ministry or the Wizengamot.'

Who was he talking about? He sounded like a damned Slytherin. I opened my mouth to ask him just that.

Harry was quicker. He pressed my hands in his. 'I can't do that alone, Ginny, I'll need your help along the way.'

I tensed and bit my lips. What did he suppose me to do?

He bent forward and gave me a quick kiss. 'Don't look at me like the rabbit at the snake, love. I promise it's nothing bad. You know that in our world politics and alliances are not only made in the Wizengamot but also in the dining room and in the parlour. I need to socialise a lot in years to come, and I'll need a hostess for that.'

'M… me?' Was that squeaky voice really mine? What had become of keeping our relationship private?

'Who else?' He laughed and gave me another quick kiss. 'Relax, love, I'm not asking you to host a big ball within two weeks notice. I'm as new at this game as you are, and we'd better ease into it. We'll start slow; attending this year's New Year Ball together will be the first step, and we'll go to a couple of dinner parties together before we start with a small one of our own. That shouldn't be too stressful.'

It didn't sound as bad when he put it this way. And yet -

'Are you ready, love?' Harry's voice interrupted my memories.

I looked up from my ring.

Tonight was a white tie event, and Harry had dressed according to that. The stern black and white of the evening attire suited him; he looked very masculine and as delectable as one of mum's Christmas cakes.

An almost painful pang fluttered through my belly, and I moistened my lips. Harry didn't know it yet, but he was going to get laid as soon as we returned home.

I got up and grabbed for my wrap and purse. 'As ready as I'll ever be, I guess.'

Harry held out his arm. 'Hold on.' He pulled the invitation card out of the inner pocket of his evening robes and tapped the card with the tip of his wand. 'Activate.'

The next moment we were swirled into the void to land in the atrium of the Ministry. I looked around.

The Christmas decorations were still up and sparkled in the light of hundreds of Everlasting Candles burning in the three huge chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling and the abundance of sconces alongside the walls. The Floos were shut off tonight, the guests had to arrive via Portkey in a fenced-off area of the atrium. Behind us, more ball guest appeared in the Portkey area, and Harry led me towards the entrance of the ballroom not to get hit by guests Portkeying in.

The entrance to the ballroom of the Ministry of Magic was opposite of the public entrance to the Ministry itself and hidden under strong Repelling Charms when the room wasn't needed. Tonight, however, the entrance was wide open. Kingsley Shacklebolt and his wife stood at one side to welcome the guests. A long line had formed in front of them, and Harry and I took our place in the queue.

As soon as people noticed Harry had arrived, the whispers went up around us. Some were even so rude to crane their necks to get a better look at us. The whispers became louder as soon as one elderly witch near us got a glimpse of my ring and turned around to have a hushed talk with the witch behind her. Both of them thought they were so subtle about it. Merlin, even a blind man couldn't have missed the curious glances they cast at me and my left hand.

An upcoming Quidditch talent, I was getting used to the public interest in my person, and replied to the crude looks with a sweet smile. At the same time I pressed Harry's arm in what I hoped was a calming and reassuring manner. Harry always was so awkward when he had to make a public appearance, and he hated the attention people paid him because he was The-Man-Who-Lived-Twice.

Harry looked down on me, a small smile around his lips. Despite of the attention he was receiving, he seemed to be comfortable and at ease. 'I'm afraid you won't know many people tonight, Ginny, although a few of my classmates from Hogwarts also got invitations. Don't worry, I won't leave your side, and I'll introduce you to those you'll have to know.'

There was no time to answer, we had reached Minister Shacklebolt and his wife. I'd met Kingsley Shacklebolt a few times while we lived at Grimmauld Place the summer after Voldemort's return, but I didn't know his wife. Minister Shacklebolt introduced me, we exchanged the common pleasantries, and my fiancé surprised me by bowing over Mrs Shacklebolt's hand and kissing her knuckles with a gracefulness Greatauntie Muriel would have approved of.

The ballroom was huge and decorated in a winter theme, with glittering icicles hanging from the ceiling, and fake silver snowflakes scattered on the blinding white tablecloths of the more than two dozen tables put up in the room. Beyond the tables was the dance floor, with a small orchestra on a stage that overlooked the whole ballroom.

Harry was right, I didn't see a familiar face. Most of the guests were elderly people, members of the Wizengamot and their wives and heirs, heads of departments, and a handful of members of influential magical families. Quite a lot of them waved and smiled at Harry. He seemed to know them all, and he'd stop and introduce me as his fiancé, exchange handshakes with the gentlemen and kiss the hands of the ladies.

That wasn't the Harry I knew from our days in the Gryffindor tower. He had changed more than I'd realised during the three years we'd hardly seen each other. The awkward teen was gone, had changed into a confident young man who knew his worth.

My chest tightened. Merlin, I was such a fool. Harry had made his way in the Ministry and the Auror Department for almost three years now without any involvement from my side. You didn't complete your training in record time or were promoted Senior Auror not even a year later and were awarded a medal for services to the Ministry of Magic if you sat in the shadows and tried your best not to get noticed. With a sinking heart I realised that Harry belonged to the upcoming influential members of our society, not only because of his victory over Voldemort but also because of his achievements during the last three years.

However, I did my best to emulate his behaviour, and responded to the many surprised exclamations about our engagement as polite as I could although there was a ring around my chest that seemed to tighten with every step deeper into the ballroom.

'See, that wasn't that bad, was it?' Harry asked as he led me to a table in the corner of the room, far away from the coveted tables on display close to the Minister for Magic and the dance floor. He might be an upcoming force to reckon with in our society, but he wasn't there yet.

The ring around my chest loosened somewhat. He was right, it hadn't been that bad, and I'd get used to it. I raised on my tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 'You're right, it wasn't.'

We'd reached our table; it was a round table for eight, and six of the seats were already taken. My mood lit up when I recognised Neville and his girlfriend, Hannah Abbott, and Hannah's best friend Susan Bones and her fiancé, Ernie Macmillan. All four had been members of the D.A. and I was good friends with them. Neville and Ernie were heirs to hereditary seats on the Wizengamot, so they'd received an invitation to the ball.

However, I almost stopped dead in my tracks when I recognised the third couple: Daphne Greengrass and her fiancé, Aaron Vaisey. They'd become engaged in June, and the gossip column of _The Daily Prophet_ had been full with sappy articles about them, much to Taylor's delight.

Greengrass also was the heir to a hereditary seat, so her presence wasn't that surprising although I hadn't counted on her being at our table, and by the looks of it getting along great with my Hogwarts friends.

I watched Greengrass from the corner of my eye as I greeted my friends from the D.A. The pictures in the newspaper didn't do her justice; close up she was even more breathtaking. If you wanted a living example for the definition of perfection, you just had to look at Daphne Greengrass, from her simple yet elegant updo, her alabaster complexion that didn't seem to need any makeup, to her ball gown of midnight blue lace over Acrumantula silk with a modest neckline. Compared to her, all women in the ballroom looked like sluts.

Even worse, the only two empty seats at the table were between Neville and that epitome of Pureblood perfection.

'So you are the fiancé Potter told me so much about,' she said when Harry made the introductions, and gave me a genuine smile that showed incredible regular white teeth. 'He was downright unbearable as long as you lived in the Harpies' dorms.'

I shook the hand she extended to me. 'I'm also pleased to meet you, Miss Greengrass.'

'Oh, please, call me Daphne.' She gave a fluttering motion with her hand. 'I hate the stiff formality the old Pureblood farts still love so much.'

Her fiancé cleared his throat and gave her a disapproving look.

'Did I offend your sense of propriety, Aaron dear?' She shot him a mischievous grin and turned back to me. 'Aaron is very old school,' she said in a stage whisper.

I bit back a laugh. This girl was so different from what I had imagined her to be when I saw the photo of her and Harry in _The Daily Prophet_. I'd been determined to loathe her on principle, because she was a snake and spent way too much time with Harry for my liking. However, there was nothing snotty about her, and the way she behaved to Harry didn't suggest any romantic attachment.

A weight rolled from my chest. 'Please, call me Ginny,' I said. 'I know what you mean. My great aunt Muriel is like that. We all give her a wide berth if possible.'

'Muriel Prewitt?' Her eyebrows shot up as I nodded. 'I feel for you.' She gave me a wink and turned her attention towards her fiancé, who had harrumphed repeatedly.

Harry held my chair out for me, and I sat down. The tight ring around my chest loosened some more. Maybe this society stuff wasn't as difficult and daunting as I had thought. I relaxed some more when Harry put his arm on the back of my chair and played with a strand of my hair I wore open and curled for this occasion, and Ernie asked me across the table what I thought about the last game between Puddlemere United and the Ballycastle Bats.

Dinner was served, and the conversation became general.

'How is the Head of the DMLE dealing with the increased number of charges because of violations against the Statute of Secrecy?' Harry asked Susan.

She rolled her eyes. 'Badly. We've got so much work we don't know how to cope with it, even though Madam Roper is delegating a lot of cases to her devoted underlings.' She gave a small, comical bow. 'Ever since that day in September the Muggles seem to have become crazy. They have increased their security tenfold and are suspicious of everything and everyone. I'm not surprised the violations of the Statute of Secrecy have risen according to that, and I daresay we've not yet seen the end of it.'

'I'm sure September's terrorism act will have a long lasting impact on the Muggle world, with severe repercussions for the Muggle world as well as for the magical world we're not yet able to grasp,' Greengrass said, and took a sip of wine.

Her fiancé gave her an indulgent side glance. 'What would your pretty little head know about that, love?'

Daphne's eyes flashed; for a brief second it seemed as if she was about to deliver a scathing reply to Vaisey. The next moment, however, she bit her lips and looked down on her plate. 'You're right, I know nothing about that, dear.'

Beside me, Harry stiffened. 'Don't sell yourself short, Greengrass. You've got a well organised head screwed on your shoulders, and you're most likely right. The editorials of the leading Muggle newspapers in the world agree with you, you know.'

She shot him a small smile, and her shoulders straightened.

Her fiancé, however, gave Harry a look that was calculated to make him feel like a cockroach under a crushing foot.

Harry reacted to that with a cocked eyebrow and a faint smile around his lips. I guess if you'd survived as many duels with Voldemort as Harry did, the death glare of one Aaron Vaisey isn't that intimidating.

An awkward silence spread around the table. Neville, Merlin bless him, came to our rescue.

'You're reading Muggle newspapers, Harry?'

'Yeah, and so should you, as I've told you too many times to remember. In our job we have to move among Muggles and interact with them often. We ought to know what's going on in their world not to make a blunder.'

Neville leaned towards me. 'Now he's on his soap box again,' he said in a loud whisper so everybody could hear.

Everyone broke out into laughter at that.

I joined the laughter although my heart wasn't in it. What by Merlin had they talked about? I had no idea what might have happened in the Muggle world that caused such an impact on the magical world that the DMLE was overworked. It didn't interest me enough to find out, either.

The conversation changed to another topic, this time to the finances of the Ministry, of all things. I hadn't even known there was a Department of Finances at the Ministry. However, there was, and Harry, Daphne, Susan and Neville, who all worked at the Ministry, had a lot to say about the distribution of funds among the departments. Vaisey, who seemed to work in the Department of Finances, defended the decisions. Ernie also threw in his two Knuts, and even Hannah, who worked the bar at the _Leaky Cauldron,_ had a decided opinion to offer.

I listened in silence while my head began to hurt from all the numbers being thrown around. Was this the kind of conversation I'd have to brave if I played hostess to the dinner parties Harry suggested? Merlin, I wasn't prepared for that. To be honest, I didn't feel like preparing myself for that kind of conversation, either. I was a simple Quidditch player who had problems to keep up with the basics of accounting required for my job education. There wasn't room for more in my head.

Dinner came to an end, and the dancing began. Minister Shacklebolt and his wife opened the ball, and the other couples joined in.

'Want to dance?' Harry asked and took my hand.

'I'd love to.'

He walked me to the dance floor. The next moment he pulled me into a waltz and led me through the turns and twists with a self-assurance that surprised me. After all, I'd seen him dancing at the Yule Ball.

I let out a delighted laugh. 'Where and when have you learned to dance that well?'

Harry smiled down on me. 'You've got to thank Hermione for that, and Greengrass, come to think of it. When we agreed I had to socialise more to further my agenda, both were adamant I had to learn to dance properly. I've had lessons with both of them.'

Greengrass, again. My heart sank. Hermione I could understand, Harry always turned to her when he had problems he couldn't solve on his own, which was pretty much everything that involved more complex magic and some organisation during our Hogwarts days. When had Greengrass entered the picture? I'd thought she and Harry were partners in whatever it was they were developing for the Auror Department, and nothing more. Well, dance lessons weren't necessary for that, so what kind of relationship had developed between them during all these long hours they spent together in the Department of Mysteries?

The ring around my chest reappeared, tighter than ever. There was only one way out of this dilemma. I opened my mouth to ask my fiancé the questions that burned on my mind.

The music came to an end. Neville chose that moment to ask me for the next dance, and Harry let go of my hand with an artless smile. It was obvious he hadn't caught on to the turmoil his admission of having had dance lessons with Greengrass had caused in me.

I bit my lips and allowed Neville to pull me into the next dance.

'You're pale,' Neville said as he led me across the dance floor in a fox. 'Are you feeling unwell?'

I sighed. 'No, I'm alright. It's just -'. I stopped and sighed.

'Just what?'

Dear Neville! He'd always been the one Hermione and I'd turned to during our Hogwarts time whenever Harry and Ron, clueless and ignorant teenage boys they were, had done something to hurt us. He'd always put things back into perspective and explained what we didn't understand about their behaviour. He'd also been my rock during the horrible time Harry was on the run and I was at the mercy of the Carrows.

'Everything.' I took my hand from his shoulder and made a fluttering motion towards the whole room. 'I had no idea Harry would be a part of it.'

Neville squeezed my hand in his. 'Harry's come a long way since he's gone into hiding to bring down Voldemort. I know you guys haven't seen as much of each other as you would've liked, Harry's complaining to me about that all the time, so I can see why you're surprised.'

'If he's complaining about not seeing me enough, why does he spend all his free evenings with Greengrass?' Merlin, was that resentful voice really mine?

'Harry loves you, Ginny.' Neville's voice was soothing, and he squeezed my hand once again. 'That notwithstanding, he's also driven by his determination to change the magical world, so that someone like Voldemort can't happen again. That's something he and Daphne have in common. She was forced by her parents to keep a neutral stance during the war although she didn't agree with that. Her father's ailing, and she'll take up the Greengrass seat on the Wizengamot soon. She's as determined as Harry to bring change to our society and has approached him for an alliance. They are already quietly forging a coalition in the background for the time when they'll be on the Wizengamot. Ernie and I are part of that, and so are Hermione, Ron, Hannah, Susan, and a few Ravenclaws, and even your brother Percy.'

The ring around my chest tightened some more, and I struggled to breathe. Merlin, how naïve I was. When Harry had talked to me about the change he wanted, I'd thought he tried to rise through the ranks of his profession to make the Auror Department less corrupt. I hadn't realised how far his plans went. Sweet Morgana, he'd asked for my support. Nothing in my life had prepared me for being the wife of a politician. I'd have to learn a lot in record time.

'Ginny?'

I looked up into Neville's eyes. 'I'm fine.'

'No, you're not. Didn't Harry talk to you about all this?'

He had, and yet he hadn't. My throat constricted. This wasn't fair. Harry had developed his plans over the course of three years, and not once talked to me about it during all this time. True, we'd hardly seen each other, and whenever we met, we'd had other things on our minds. He'd also always been more interested in hearing what was going on in my life than talking about himself. Knowing Harry, I'd blamed that on his reluctance to talk about himself.

Not even in my wildest dreams I would've thought that my loving fiancé who was so eager to see me making my mark in the world of Quidditch was secretly planning on changing the magical world as I knew it. Yes, he'd told me he wanted change. I'd admired him for his idealism and had secretly thought he'd fail; the magical world was too corrupt and set in its ways for real change. He didn't tell me how far he'd already come in his preparations.

Was it too much to ask for a slight warning ahead? I was his fiancée, for Merlin's sake, we were planning on spending our lives together. Did I expect too much if I wanted to be included in his plans?

The muscles in my neck stiffened, and I scowled.

Well, he _did_ include me in his plans. He'd served them to me when everything was already well thought out and expected me to go along and become the perfect wife and hostess of a ministry official with political ambitions.

He'd not once asked me if I wanted to be part of that. He'd just taken it for granted.

I shook my head at Neville. 'No, I had no idea.'

Neville took in a sharp breath. 'You'd better talk to him, soon.'

The dance ended. I got on my tiptoes and gave Neville a peck on the cheek. 'Thank you for telling me, Nev. You're a good friend.'

He grimaced at me and left it at that. Together, we returned to our table, the same time as Harry returned with Greengrass on his arm. They were both laughing about something Greengrass just had said.

The green-eyed, scaly monster in my chest let out a huge roar.

I ordered it to shut up. There wasn't the least amorous in the way they acted with each other. They were allies, nothing more.

 _Not yet,_ a tiny voice inside of me whispered. I gagged it.

In spite of my best efforts something in my expression must have given me away. Harry's brows creased, scarcely perceptible, and he let go of Greengrass' arm. Next he was by my side and put his arm around my waist. 'You don't look well,' he whispered into my ear. 'Shall I take you home?'

'No; it's just a bit stifling inside here.' That wasn't a lie; the hundreds of Everlasting Candles burning in the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling seemed to suck up all the oxygen in the room, and it was as hot as in the stomach of a cow.

'Let's catch some fresh air.'

He led me to a door at the back of the ballroom I hadn't noticed before. It opened into a bleak staircase. Another door straight ahead of us led us into the garage of the ministry. On our way out, Harry pointed towards the rows of cars parked at either side of the drive. 'We're using these cars whenever we have missions that involve the Muggle world.'

Right now I couldn't care less about the cars. All I wanted were a few undisturbed minutes to digest the news that had hit me tonight, so I gave a noncommittal grunt. Merlin give my Weasley temper wouldn't get the better of me and I'd yell at Harry. That might help me to feel better for a short period, but it wouldn't solve our problems in the long run.

Harry flicked his wand at the overhead-door at the end of the driveway, and it opened. A blast of cold, wet winter wind that smelled of snow blew into the garage.

I shuddered, crossed my arms in front of my chest and rubbed my naked upper arms with my hands.

With another flick of his wand Harry cast a Warming Charm on me, then stepped closer and took me in his arms. 'Warm enough?' he asked and brushed his lips against my cheeks.

How could he be so caring and yet so ignorant at the same time? I opened my mouth to confront him with what Neville had told me.

The door from the staircase to the garage banged open. The staccato of high heels running over concrete echoed through the cavernous room.

Longer steps followed. 'Damned, Daphne, stop!' a male voice shouted.

The footsteps came to a sudden halt.

'Ouch! Let go of me, Aaron!'

Harry and I exchanged a look, then turned around.

Greengrass and Vaisey stood in the middle of the garage. He had grabbed her by the upper arm with his left hand; his knuckles stood out white, and his fingernails dug into the soft flesh of her arm.

Greengrass hissed in pain. Her eyes glared at him, and she yanked her right arm away from him to get out of his steely grip - to no avail. She hissed another time, and heat flushed into her face. There was no mistaking: she was as furious as a cat, and if she had had a tail, it would be whipping the air.

They were so focussed on each other they didn't notice Harry and me standing in the open garage door. The overhead lights, a magical imitation of Muggle neon lights, cast an eerie, stark light on them.

Greengrass yanked her arm yet another time.

Vaisey tightened his grip, and an ugly expression flickered across his face. He lunged out with his free arm and slapped Greengrass' face so hard her head flung back, and she lost a few hairpins of her updo. Strands of her long hair came down and covered her face and shoulders.

It happened so fast neither Harry nor I had a chance to react. We both stood frozen and stared at the drama in front of our eyes.

'That should teach you where your place is, bitch.' Vaisey sneered at his fiancée.

She froze and stared back at him, her mouth open, and all colour drained from her face, except for a tiny spot of red where he had hit her that grew bigger by the second, until a tiny rivulet trickled down her chin.

Vaisey was not yet finished. 'Do you think I'd tolerate that you become one of Potter's minions? That you worked together with him last year was bad enough; I won't have my future wife chum up with him. Oh, I know about the plans you made with him. Forget them. The Greengrass seat will be mine to control.'

'Only over my dead body.'

'As you wish, dear. That can be arranged - after the marriage, of course. Now let me make sure you won't remember anything of this little encounter.' He pulled his wand out of the pockets of his robes and pointed it at her. 'Ob -'

Harry awoke from his stupor. His wand slipped in his hand from the invisible holster on his wrist, Vaisey's wand sailed through the air, and Harry caught it with his left hand. Strong ropes wrapped themselves around Vaisey's body until he was bound up like a pot roast.

He swayed for a moment, then crashed to the ground like a felled tree. His head hit the concrete with a sickening crush that echoed through the garage, and he groaned.

Greengrass' wand had slipped into her hand even before Vaisey was wrapped up completely, and she now pointed it at his groin.

I fumbled my wand out of the bodice of my ball gown and also pointed it at Vaisey from my vantage point at the exit of the garage. There'd be a time when I would've hexed first and asked questions later; I seemed to have lost my touch during the years of peace.

'Thank you to whoever decided to help me,' Greengrass said, without taking her eyes off Vaisey.

'That would have been me,' Harry said. He strode towards her. Like Greengrass, he never let Vaisey out of his sight.

'Potter!' The relief in Greengrass voice was unmistakable, and a broad smile appeared on her face. 'Thank you for rescuing the damsel in distress.'

Harry gave her a wry grin as he stepped beside her. 'Oh, I'm sure you would've put him in his place as soon as you got your hands on your wand.' He nudged the rolled roast in front of him with the tip of his dress shoe. 'What do you want me to do with him? Do you want to press charges?'

Greengrass took her lower lip between her teeth and furrowed her eyebrows. 'I'd better not,' she said at length. 'I suppose you heard him?'

Harry nodded.

'Well, there's no saying what nonsense he'll spout in a trial. I don't want to be a liability, Potter.'

Harry's face softened. 'You'll never be.' He looked down on the man at his feet, and all traces of softness vanished from his features. 'Well, in that case…'

A spell shot out of his wand and hit Vaisey in the head. His eyes rolled back, and his rigid body slumped.

'You Obliviated him? What false memory did you give him?'

'That you had a big fight and hit him with a Stunner. It's up to you what you do with him as soon as he comes round.'

Greengrass took a deep breath. 'Alright.' She pointed her wand at Vaisey.

The ropes vanished, his eyes fluttered, and he groaned.

Greengrass took Vaisey's wand out of Harry's hand and tossed it at the man on the ground. 'You'd better leave, Aaron. I've had enough of you.' With her right hand, she pulled a large sapphire ring off her ring finger. 'Oh and take that back. We're through.' The ring followed the wand.

Vaisey groped for both, pocketed the ring, and scrambled to his feet. With a sneer at Harry and Greengrass, he turned on the spot and Apparated away.

'Good riddance,' Harry said.

Beside him, Greengrass made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and slumped. 'I can't believe he'd used me to get his hands on the Greengrass seat.'

'You've used him too,' Harry said. There wasn't a trace of sympathy in his voice.

My ears perked up. What was that all about? Harry seemed to have an intimate knowledge of Greengrass' personal life. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth. As soon as we were home, my fiancé and I were going to have a long and overdue talk.

'True.' Greengrass' voice quivered. A sob echoed through the garage, followed by another. She covered her face with the palms of her hands. 'Don't say "I told you so",' she said between sobs.

Harry's eyes widened. 'Greengrass, I'm sorry.' The next moment, he pulled her in his arms, and his hands stroked her back in comforting circles, while he murmured something in her hair I couldn't understand.

The ring around my chest chose that moment to press all the air out of my lungs. I stared at my fiancé, the man who hated crying women, and would be the first to admit he was rubbish in giving comfort to anyone, how he calmed down the crying woman in his arm with a patience and gentleness I never would have thought possible.

What, by Merlin's shrivelled balls, was going on between those two?

My sight became burry. I'd seen enough. Now was neither the time nor the place to demand the answers he owed me from Harry. Morgana knew, he was going to have to answer to me soon.

I turned on the spot and Apparated away.

 _t.b_ _.c._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Everything belongs to J.K.R.

* * *

 _ **January 2002**_

I Apparated to Grimmauld Place, changed my extravagant ball gown for my nightie, scrubbed off the makeup and brushed the curls out of my hair, and walked down to the kitchen in search of something to calm me. A bottle of Firewhisky was just what I needed now. My bad luck the Harpies had an important game tomorrow, and I was one of the starting chasers. Our trainer would want to have my head for breakfast if I turned up with a hangover.

The kitchen was empty. I let out a deep breath, and some tension left my body. Thank Merlin Kreacher didn't show up. The last thing I needed right now was the elf's muttered, hateful remarks about me.

I prepared myself a herbal tea, extinguished the light and pulled a chair towards the large window.

You couldn't see much from here, just the small patio in front of the entrance to the lower ground floor and the former servant's stair that led up to the small stretch of pavement in front of the house. If you twisted your neck in the right angle, however you could glimpse the sky, polluted by the London city lights, and imagine you were looking at the stars.

I have no idea how long I sat there; the mug cradled between my cold hands, and scrutinized the dark sky, as if the answers to my questions were written there like the Quidditch moves our trainer draw on a chalkboard.

At last there was the telltale sound of Apparition in the place's garden. Seconds later Harry strode towards the house. Clad in black, he was almost one with the darkness, but I'd recognise him by the quick, yet graceful way he moved anywhere.

The front door opened and clicked shut, then his soft steps walked up to our bedroom. I held my breath and waited.

Not even a minute later the door of our bedroom opened again. Hasty feet hurried down the hallway, the stairs, and towards the door to the kitchen.

The door yanked open. Harry stood in the doorway, visible in the light that fell into the kitchen from the lantern in front of the house. He still wore his dress pants and starched white shirt, although he had removed his dress robes, the waistcoat, and the tie, and opened the buttons at his throat.

His eyes roamed the room, and he let out a deep breath when he discovered me huddled in the chair in front of the window, my legs drawn up.

In the blink of an eye, his face hardened. 'Care to tell me what that was about, Ginny? One moment I take care of Greengrass, and when I look around, you're gone. I searched for you all over the place.'

I met his stare with one of my own. 'You seemed rather occupied when you took care of Greengrass. I didn't want to come between that.' As soon as the petty words were out of my mouth, I wished I could take them back.

Harry's face became stoney, his eyes flashed at me. 'You're making a mountain out of a molehill, Ginny. Greengrass is a coworker and a friend, nothing more. I comforted her like I'd have comforted Hermione if she had broken up with Ron.'

His words were like salt in an open wound. Heat rushed through my body. I put the mug on the windowsill and rose from my chair to meet him on equal ground, my head held high.

'No, you didn't, Harry.'

'Huh? What are you talking about?'

I gritted my teeth. How daft did he think me that he tried to feed me such a blatant lie?

'Hermione and I had long talks about what happened while you were on the run. It helped her cope, I think, and it helped me to understand you, since you didn't talk much to me about this time. One thing she mentioned over and over again was the way how all communication seemed to have dried up between you and her the moment Ron left. You didn't turn to each other; Hermione said you withdrew into yourself and there were days you didn't talk at all. You never took her in your arms and comforted her the way you comforted Greengrass tonight.'

His head jerked back, and he stared at me from under furrowed eyebrows. However, he recovered soon. He walked into the room, leaned with his back against the kitchen counter, his legs crossed, and folded his arms in front of his chest, his hands tucked in his armpits. 'That was different. _I_ was different back then. There was so much pressure on me…' His voice faded, and he stared ahead with unseeing eyes.

It didn't take Legilimency for me to know he was haunted by the memories of the year he'd been on the run, a time of his life I still knew next to nothing about, except little snippets he dropped here and there. He'd clam up every time I tried to get him to talk, and after a few futile tries I'd given up and respected his privacy. I'd never thought much about it; that was so typically Harry, he needed to come to grips with things on his own time - and he'd always rather talked to Hermione and Ron about his demons than to me.

I'd accepted that a long time ago, when I realised after Dumbledore's murder that he'd break up with me and do whatever it was he needed to do. I could never measure up to Hermione and Ron. He loved me, in his own way, but there always was a part of him he'd keep away from me. I'd been alright with that as long as Hermione and Ron had been the only ones he confided in. Nowadays, however, he seemed to confide into quite a number of people, and I, his fiancé, had somehow ended at the end of the queue.

My eyes stung, and there was a pain deep in my throat. I'd thought when we moved together we would become closer and he would include me into his life as his partner and most cherished confidante. Merlin, I'd never been so wrong, so much I'd found out during that wretched ball.

Harry's eyes turned back. 'I grew up since then, at least a little. I comforted you in the same way at Fred's funeral.'

A sharp pain jolted through my body. We'd already been a couple again at that time. I took a deep, shaking breath. 'You know, that somehow confirms my assumptions about you and Greengrass.'

'Huh?' He looked at me as if I was talking in a language he didn't understand.

Which I probably was. I pressed my hands together to keep me from bursting out into tears. Right now I didn't want to show any weakness in front of him. He needed to understand how hurt I was, maybe that would bring us on the same level. 'It's not only that, Harry. You seem to know quite a lot about her private life.'

Again that blank look. 'What by Merlin are you talking about, Ginny?'

'You told her she'd used Vaisey. That indicates a pretty intimate knowledge of their relationship. Greengrass doesn't strike me as the kind of woman who chats about relationship-problems with mere acquaintances. You two seem to know each other rather well, and she trusts you.'

'Oh, that.' He straightened and ran a hand through his hair. 'Well, I suppose you're right with that. We spent a lot of time together during the past two years. Setting up test series and watching them while you wait for the results can be rather boring, you know, and we talked about this and that.'

I raised my eyebrow. 'About relationships?'

'No, not exactly. Though I might have mentioned two or three times how much I missed you.' He smiled at me and shifted his position. 'Look, I won't talk to you about something Greengrass told me in confidence, Ginny. There's nothing between her and me you need to worry about. She's just a friend, like Hermione.'

Was she? I gave him a sharp glace.

His eyes met mine, wide open and sincere. He believed what he said.

Yes, they were friends, good friends, and yet my gut feeling told me she was far from being in the same category as Hermione. However, I kept my mouth shut instead of confronting him with my doubts. What would be gained by that? What if I read the signs wrong?

 _What_ _if not?_ that pesky tiny voice inside me asked. I shut it off; I'd deal with that when - no, _if -_ that time came.

Yet, there was still another issue that burned on my mind. 'Why did you never tell me about the plans you made with Neville, Ron, Hermione, Greengrass, and Merlin knows who else? I felt pretty foolish tonight when Neville talked to me about them, and I had to admit I had no idea.'

Harry's cheeks flushed. 'I told you when we talked about me becoming Robards' successor. After all, I asked you to be the hostess for the manoeuvring behind the scenes I'll need to do.'

'Yes, but you didn't tell me everything, Harry. Everyone knew, Neville, Ron, Hermione, Percy… even Greengrass. Everyone, except me. Do you have an idea how that made me feel?'

He slumped, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and averted his eyes. 'I'm sorry, Ginny, I didn't mean to hurt you, it's just -'

A shrill buzz, coming from the pocket of his trousers, interrupted him.

'All Auror Alert! All Auror Alert! This is not a test. All Auror Alert!'

'Fuck!'

Harry pulled a flat, round device, much like the fake Galleons Hermione had made for the D.A., out of his pocket and tipped the tip of his wand to it.

The infernal buzzing stopped.

He stuffed the device back in his pocket, pushed himself off the counter and turned to the door. Already halfway out, he looked over his shoulder. 'I'm sorry, Ginny, we'll talk when I'm back.'

I nodded, too surprised to get a word out. He didn't see it, he'd already turned his head again and was heading towards the door. Seconds later the entrance door banged shut behind him, and there was the sound of Apparition.

My mouth quivered and my throat ached. I gave in to the urge, palmed my face in my hands, and had a long cry.

He hadn't kissed me goodbye.

* * *

Although I was tired to the bone, sleep evaded me that night.

As a result, our trainer wasn't happy with me at the end of our game on Saturday. We'd won, with ten points to spare, thanks to Kelly, our excellent Seeker. My performance had been abysmal, and our trainer didn't mince words with me when she uttered her displeasure.

'Fuck you, Weasley, you played as if you'd never been on a broom before. You dropped the Quaffle three times when you should have scored an easy goal. Three times! What in the name of Hades was going on in your head?'

I lowered my gaze to the ground and shuffled my feet. There was no use telling her about my worries about Harry being out on a probably dangerous mission, or my worries about our relationship, and the fight we'd had before the alarm went off. She expected from us to push minor inconveniences like that into the back of our minds and concentrate on the important task at hand: Quidditch.

Her tirade went on for another five minutes until I she allowed me to join my teammates for the victory party.

Abrianna pushed a glass of Firewhisky in my hand. 'Here, you look as if you need it.'

She was right; the thought of getting pissed and forgetting about the stuff going on in my life was tempting. Yet I hesitated to take the shot. 'I'd better not. I won't stay long tonight and return home.'

Abrianna raised her eyebrows. 'Suit yourself.' She downed the Firewhisky and gave me a thoughtful look. 'You never go home after games. Which is baffling, considering the surprise you've sprung at us. I mean, you've got Harry Potter waiting for you!'

I cast a look over my shoulder. All of my teammates were celebrating, nobody paid heed to Abrianna and me. Good. The news about Harry's and my engagement had made it to the front page of today's _Daily Prophet._ I should have expected that after the ball, and yet the headline had hit me by surprise. My teammates all had been focussed on the upcoming game when I arrived on the training grounds, so nobody had remarked on the article - until now.

'Sorry, I never kept it a secret. None of you ever asked for details about my private life. You just accepted I was engaged to an Auror who was too busy to watch my games.'

'True.' Abrianna deposited her glass on a tablet with shots an elf carried around and exchanged it for a full glass. 'However, had I such a hottie waiting for me at home, I wouldn't care for the after-game-party. I mean - Harry Potter!'

I shrugged at that. 'To me, he's always been just Harry.' That wasn't the whole truth, at least up to my third year I'd acted as star-struck around him as the rest of the magical world. Abrianna didn't have to know though.

She gazed at me over the rim of the shot in her hand. 'You're rather quiet today, you didn't play to your usual standard, and you want to go back to your own place tonight instead staying at the dorms. Why do I sense a pattern there?'

My stomach gave an uncomfortable flutter, and I averted my eyes. The last thing I needed were speculations about my life among my teammates. The Harpies' rumour mill was as efficient as the Hogwarts' rumour mill, with the added downside that everyone on the team had good connections to the press and wouldn't hesitate to use them to their own advantage. I didn't want to read supposed insider stories about Harry and me in _The Daily Prophet._

'Don't worry, I value our friendship too much as I'd give away details about your private life with Potter,' Aubrianna said. She put a hand on my arm. 'Troubles in paradise?' Her voice sounded warm and concerned.

I cast a surreptitious look at my partying teammates, pulled my wand out of the pocket of my training robes, and cast a silent _Muffliato_ around Aubrianna and me. 'Harry got called to a mission last night.'

'So, you're worried about him?'

'Yeah, kind of.' I stashed the wand back in my robes, not sure if it was wise to confide into Aubrianna. 'Though, Harry told me right from the beginning not to worry if he doesn't return home or contacts me when he's on a case. If something… goes wrong, I'll hear from the Auror Department, so in fact no news means good news when he's away.'

'It must have happened before, and yet you've never showed a sign of worry or nervousness. What's different this time?' Aubrianna raised her eyebrows at me and downed her second shot.

I bit my lower lip. Could I dare telling her? I weighed the pros and cons in my mind. The urge to unburden myself won. 'We fought before he left.'

Aubrianna grimaced. 'I see, you're worried your fight might impact his work and he gets hurt because of that. After all, it had an impact on you.' She put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. 'Why don't you head home? Maybe he's already back, and you can make up and shag each other senseless in celebration of that.'

I acknowledged her attempt to cheer me up with a weak smile. If only things were as easy as that. However, where Harry Potter was concerned, things were never easy. I suppressed a grimace.

She squeezed my shoulder once again. 'If he isn't home yet, go and talk to Hermione Granger. She's friends with him as well as with you, isn't she? So she should be able to give you better advice than I can, and you don't have to worry about things getting outside of your small circle of close friends.'

That was sound advice. I leaned forward and hugged her. 'Thank you, Aubrianna, you're a real friend.'

Ten minutes later, I was back at Grimmauld Place. Kreacher greeted me with his usual hateful glare and muttered words of resentment. I ignored him; while I would've loved to get rid of the elf, Harry didn't want to hear a word about that. He treated him like a cherished family member, and Kreacher responded with blind adoration, and rejected all of my attempts to become friends with him.

The best course of action was to ignore him. 'Is Harry already back?' I asked and cleared the soot from my training robes.

Kreacher didn't deign to look at me, his concentration on the silver candlesticks he was cleaning. 'Master still bes at work.'

My shoulders slumped. I had so hoped Harry would be back already, and we'd be able to clear the air. Sudden tiredness overcame me. Without another word to Kreacher, I left the kitchen and dragged myself up to our bedroom, where I peeled myself out of my training robes, slipped on a nightie and crawled into bed.

Maybe it was because of my sleepless night the day before, but I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

It was already broad daylight when I woke up the next morning. I stretched and looked at the bed beside me. It was empty. So I still couldn't talk to Harry. At once, my innards wriggled as if someone had set loose a can of worms there.

My nervosity hadn't got better when I came down into the kitchen. My appearance was the sign for Kreacher to retreat to the room Harry had assigned him next to the master bedroom. The room once belonged to Sirius' younger brother, and Kreacher had turned it into a kind of shrine for all things Black.

Breakfast didn't sound appealing at all. I cast a look at the clock on the wall. It was almost noon. I could invite myself to _The Burrow_ for lunch, mum would be over the moon. She often complained that Harry's and my visits had become so sparse. She'd shower me with attention, food and questions about my life and Harry. The latter was something I could do without as long as I hadn't cleared the air between Harry and me.

So, _The Burrow_ was out of the question.

Aubrianna's suggestion came to my mind. I could ask Hermione to join me for brunch somewhere and have a much needed girl-talk about Harry. Maybe that would settle my nervosity somewhat.

I walked to the fireplace, threw some Floo Powder into the flames, and called, 'Residence of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.'

My head was spun through the Floo system. I got glimpses of at least half a dozen foreign living rooms and kitchens until the spinning came to a halt to the sight of the familiar living room of my brother and his girlfriend, with overspilling bookcases lining the walls and additional stacks of books on every available surface, even on the windowsill and between the comfy chairs.

'Hermione? Anyone at home?'

Footsteps came closer from somewhere deeper in the flat, the door to the living room opened, and Hermione came in. She'd changed a lot since the day I met her first. She'd got rid of her buckteeth in her fourth year, and ever since she worked at the Ministry of Magic she made an effort with her outer appearance to present the image of a competent uprising young professional woman. Custom brewed shampoo and conditioner potions nowadays tamed her bushy hair and she wore it in a simple, but elegant chignon at the back on her head. Yet it still had a rebellious streak, and after not even half an hour a few wisps would escape and frame her face in soft curls. Instead of in bulky school robes she nowaday dressed in smart Muggle pant suits with a starched white blouse beneath, and crisp, open business robes worn over that outfit. To Ron's secret delight she'd even wear light makeup.

Hermione's face lit up when she saw me. 'Ginny!' She crouched down in front of the fireplace. Today, she wore faded jeans and a pink sweater; her hair, however, was pulled back in a chignon, and she wore lipgloss and mascara.

'It must've been ages since we last talked.' She made herself comfortable on the hard floor. 'What brings you here? I gather Harry isn't back yet? Neither is Ron.'

Heat rushed into my face. Hermione was right, I'd neglected her over the demands of being a Holyhead Harpy.

Hermione picked up on my embarrassment. 'Don't worry about that, Ginny. Harry told me everything about your tight schedule. He's so proud of you, you should've heard him when you scored your first goal for the Harpies.'

Warmth spread in my chest. She was right, Harry _was_ proud of me. Each Sunday, when I returned from the Harpies' dorms, he'd spend a lot of time analysing our last game with me, and praising my moves. I focussed on the warm glow inside me. Our relationship was about the small things in life, and not about some grand scheme for the betterment of the magical world.

I smiled at Hermione. 'What about having brunch together and some girl talk, since the boys are still on duty? I doubt we'll see them anytime soon.'

A shadow flickered across Hermione's face. The next second it was replaced by a broad smile. 'Sounds great. Let me get my purse and cloak, and I'll be over in a sec.' She jumped to her feet and walked out of the room.

What was that all about? Did Hermione know more about Harry's current mission than I? Most likely; she also worked in the Ministry, and she'd always been deep in Harry's confidence when it came to the fight against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. My stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. This was another reminder there were things going on in Harry's life I didn't know. I raised my thumb to my mouth and picked at the nail, a childish habit that came back whenever I was insecure.

Hermione returned in a Muggle-style winter coat, the strap of her purse slung over one shoulder. I pulled away from the fireplace to let her through. She emerged from the Floo with a grace that would've put any member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight to shame, there was not a speck of soot on her hair or her clothing. We exchanged a small hug.

'Just let me get my purse and my cloak, and I'm ready to go wherever you like.' I cast a glance at her Muggle clothes. 'I gather you don't fancy breakfast at _The Leaky Cauldron_?'

She shrugged. 'I'll leave it up to you, though I think we'll have more privacy in a Muggle restaurant.'

'You have a point there.' My popularity among Quidditch fans had skyrocketed during the last year. By now it was as hard for me to move in the wizarding public without being accosted by fans as it was for Harry.

Fifteen minutes later we sat across each other at a table of the _Sparrow in the Bush,_ a country-style pub on Essex Road that served brunch all day long at the weekends. While we picked our choices and waited for the waitress to bring our meals, we talked about this and that and brought each other up to speed about what was going on in our jobs, and I racked my brain how to best bring up Harry and my worries about our relationship.

Hermione, Merlin bless her, solved my dilemma. As soon as the waitress had placed the plates in front of us and turned her back, she picked up her cutlery and cast me a sharp glance across the table. 'Alright, Ginny, out with it. What's bothering you?'

I let out a deep breath. I'd forgotten how observant Hermione was. She'd been a socially deaf girl during our Hogwarts days who alienated quite a lot of students with her demanding ways. However, only little that happened within the student body had escaped her attention, no matter which house.

'It's… everything. It's such a jumbled mess in my head I have no idea where to begin.'

'The beginning would be a good point.' Hermione smiled at me over the rim of her teacup.

The beginning. I bit back a sarcastic laugh. That was easier said than done. I searched my memories. When had been the first time I'd thought Harry and I weren't on the same page?

'It started with that damned hut,' I blurted out.

Hermione put down the cup and gave me a look from under puckered brows. 'Excuse me?'

'He took me there the day after our engagement. He was as eager as a small boy who showed me his greatest treasure.'

The next moment I spilled out everything that had happened since Harry and I became engaged: his obsession with his parent's hut I despised, the long time of separation almost immediately after our engagement and the little communication we had during that time, the ball he invited me to I had missed because of the trip to Australia, my shock when I saw the photo of Harry and Greengrass in _The Daily Prophet,_ my secret disappointment that things didn't seem to get any better after we'd moved together, my reservations against Harry's career plans, and my resentment when I found out that all of his friends seemed to know more about his life than I did, and the overwhelming jealousy when he'd comforted Greengrass. All that came out in one jumbled avalanche of words.

Hermione listened and ah-ed and uhm-ed in all the right places.

When I reached the end of my tale, my voice quivered, and there was a pain in my throat. I gritted my teeth and fought down the tears.

My friend didn't talk at once when I ended my monologue. Instead, she slumped back in her chair and averted her eyes to look out of the window, her mouth cupped with her hand.

At length, she lowered her hand. 'This is worse than I'd expected.'

'Excuse me?'

Hermione turned her eyes back to me. She didn't smile, and her face was tense. 'You didn't change much since you raved about Harry to me and pumped me for information about him during your second year, did you?'

I gaped at her.

'You told me everything about how Harry let you down in your opinion. However, I'm missing the part where he didn't respond to your efforts to get him talking or making him look at things from your point of view. Merlin, Ginny, you _know_ Harry, thanks to his horrendous upbringing his social skills are lacking. He won't discuss the problems between you as long as you don't force him to even though he's probably as aware of them as you are. He wouldn't know how to approach them.'

Heat shot into my cheeks, and my face and neck tingled. I froze and stared at Hermione with wide eyes. 'What?'

'You understood me well enough.' Hermione's eyes shot daggers at me across the table. 'For Merlin's sake, Ginny, grow up! You're not teenagers at Hogwarts anymore who play games with each other. You and Harry are planning on spending your lives together, so you both should put some effort in working on your relationship. You know Harry needs guidance in that area, so you should've doubled your efforts. Instead, you were content being the fiancé of the Chosen One and the upcoming star of the Holyhead Harpies and did nothing to find out how Harry feels or what is driving him. When you finally realised that he actually has a life and dreams outside of the bedroom, you were offended.'

'He never talked -'

'Don't give me that dragondung.' Hermione overran my feeble protests. 'Harry tried to talk to you, you admitted that much. He took you to the hut, he talked to you about his plans for the Auror Department… _but you weren't interested, Ginny!_ You might not have said so, however, I bet it showed in your behaviour, and Harry will have picked up on that. As a result he turned to Ron and me and also to the new friends he made in the Ministry who are on the same wavelength.'

'Greengrass!' I was shocked at the venom in my voice when I spat out the name.

Hermione nodded. 'She and Harry have a lot in common. They also spend a lot of time together. I'm not surprised they've become good friends.'

'By the way how Harry comforted her, I had the impression they were more than that.'

Hermione shook her head at that. 'They're not, at least not yet. Harry's too noble to cheat on you before ending things with you first. That notwithstanding, there are other ways to leave behind those closest to you than sleeping around. Over the course of the last three years Daphne's become Harry's confidante. I'm sure he told her a lot of things he even didn't tell Ron and me. From where they are it's only a small step to physical closeness, if you get my drift.' She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. 'I hate to say it, Ginny, your apprehensions regarding their relationship are spot on, even though I'm not sure if Harry has realised yet where he's heading. If you want to turn things around, you'd better make a huge effort to become an essential part of his life.'

The words pounded down on me like Bludgers hit with steel hammers. Everything went cold inside me, and my skin tingled all over my body. I shook my head. 'No… No, no, no. That can't be true. Harry loves me.'

'He does, although I won't put it past him that his feelings will change if you continue on this path.' Hermione's voice seemed to come from far away.

I stared at the plate in front of me and bile rose in my throat. The eggs benedict would go back to the kitchen untouched. I put some Muggle money on the table, pushed my chair back and got to my feet, slowly and clumsy like an old woman. 'Excuse me, Hermione, I need some time of my own.'

'It's alright, Ginny.' Hermione's voice, soft and full of compassion, reached me as if through a thick layer of cotton wool.

I have no idea how I made it out of the restaurant and back to Grimmauld Place without being run over by a car or Splinching myself as I Apparated. Harry wasn't home yet, and I curled up under a thick blanket in front of the fireplace of the living room. Neither the blanket, nor the roaring fire I lit in the fireplace the second I entered the room did anything to numb the cold that had overwhelmed me when I listened to Hermione's devastating assessment of the state of Harry's and my relationship. What was I supposed to do? Talking was a good advice, however, Harry had to be in the same room for that, and we hardly ever were.

Harry didn't return from his mission that Sunday. He still wasn't back when I left the house Monday morning. That was unfortunate, to say the least. I had to leave for the Harpies' winter training camp in South Africa that morning and wouldn't be back until February, with the second half of the Quidditch season starting soon after that.

The last hour before I had to leave for the Harpies' training grounds to catch the Portkey to Cape Town I spent in front of Harry's desk, trying to come up with the right words for a proper goodbye that also conveyed my need for a long and undisturbed talk as soon as I returned.

Needless to say I failed. In the end I left the house without a message for Harry.

The weeks I spent in South Africa were the longest weeks of my life, longer even than all those months Harry had been on the run and I'd had no idea how he was faring. He didn't write once.

When I returned home, I was determined to make changes in our relationship.

However, it takes two to tango. Whilst I cleared my schedule of everything I wasn't supposed to do without breaking my contract, Harry carried on as usual. When I brought up the issue of spending more time together as a couple, he didn't react. Until today I have no idea if he didn't listen since his thoughts were elsewhere or if he ignored me on purpose.

Somehow we muddled through the following weeks. On the outside, our relationship seemed intact. Harry would give me a peck on the cheek when he left in the mornings and greet me the same way whenever we both came home at a reasonable time. The latter hardly ever happened. However, his kisses seemed perfunctory, and he never instigated more. Whenever I cuddled up next to him for some quality time, he'd get up a couple of minutes later with a feeble excuse.

He was drifting away from me. At first, I came up with excuses for his behaviour. He was tired, he'd had a long day at the Ministry, Robards was working him hard… However, when the weeks flew by I ran out of pretences.

We were heading towards the end.

Stubborn redhead I was, I kept ignoring the obvious until the truth bit me in the arse.

It was a balmy and sunny day in June 2002, just right to grab your broom and go flying. The Quidditch season had ended the weekend before, with the Holyhead Harpies finishing as runners-up. My contract had been prolonged, and I got another pay-rise and additional benefits. There were even rumours of an invitation for me to join the English national team in the approaching friendly game against Bulgaria.

Life was good to me, at least on the outside.

I sat in front of the mirror of the vanity of our bedroom and finished the last touches of my makeup. The door opened behind me, the mirror showed Harry walking into the room, his hair still wet from the shower and sticking out into all directions, and clad into nothing more but a towel slung around his hips. Without a glance at me he strode over to the wardrobe and vanished out of the mirror.

There was the soft creak of the door of the vanity opening, and then the rustle of clothes as he dressed.

With a sinking heart I returned to the mirror to finish my makeup. When had been the last time he'd looked at me and paid me a compliment? Nowadays I could as well be a piece of furniture in his room, he gave me about as much attention.

'Are you ready?'

I nodded in response, got up and grabbed for my purse. When I turned around to give Harry the full view of my new dress, he'd already turned his back to me and headed towards the door.

We walked down the stairs in silence. The silence continued when we walked out of the house towards the shrubbery in the middle of Grimmauld Place. Harry offered me his arm, and the next moment he Apparated us away.

We appeared in a lavish garden. It belonged to Longbottom Farm near York and was a true testament to Neville's skills as a gardener and herbologist.

The party was already in full swing when we arrived. Neville, together with Ron and Hermione and a couple of other friends who'd worked for the Ministry since they'd graduated from Hogwarts, had finished his training this week and had used the opportunity for a party.

He welcomed Harry with a slap on the shoulder and greeted me with a peck on the cheek. 'Get something to drink and make yourself comfortable. I think you know everyone who's here tonight.'

On Harry's arm I made my round to greet the other guests, and then we ambled to the bar. On our way we stumbled upon Susan Bones and Ernie Macmillan. They sat at a round table together with two other males whom Susan introduced as her co-workers from the D.M.L.E. who had finished their training together with her. Of course they knew Harry from the Ministry, that notwithstanding they seemed to be as awestruck in his presence as the majority of the magical population. They didn't have these reservations with me.

'Ginny Weasley, isn't it?' the taller one of the two said. 'I'm a huge fan of yours! Congratulations to your success in this season. Chaser of the Year is something, I'd say.'

Used to that kind of talk I gave the appropriate thanks. He and his co-worker turned out to be ardent Quidditch aficionados, and before long I was involved in an interesting talk about teams, strategies and my prospects for a place on the English national team. Ernie threw in his two Knuts, while Harry sat down next to Susan and they stuck their heads together in a quiet conversation.

As immersed in the conversation with my two fans as I was, I never noticed when Harry got up from the table and left. The two blokes knew a lot about Quidditch, and it was fun talking to them especially since they supplied me with enough Butterbeer that my voice wouldn't become hoarse.

It wasn't until much later that night that I thought of looking for my fiancé.

Meanwhile, it had become dark, and the garden was dimly lit by strings of colourful lanterns and a few candles on the tables. There was laughter everywhere, and soft music. I looked around, it was hard to discern faces in the flickering light of the candles. Harry wasn't at the table where Ron and Hermione seemed to have a lively discussion with Dean Thomas and his date. He wasn't in the boisterous group around Neville and Hannah, either. In fact, I was sure he wasn't sitting at one of the many tables at all.

In search of my fiancé I made my way deeper into the garden.

I turned around a hedgerow and found them sitting side by side in a swing under a huge apple tree at the end of the garden. There weren't any lanterns here, even so the moon was bright enough to give me a good view.

Each of them sat in a corner of the swing, their bodies angled towards each other and their knees pointed towards each other and almost touching. Greengrass looked different than the last time I'd seen her, albeit no less attractive. She wore her almost waist-long hair open and twirled a strand around her finger as she talked to Harry. Like on the ball she had put on little, nevertheless effective makeup. Her lip gloss made her pink lips shine invitingly whenever she looked at Harry, and by the way his gaze was glued to her mouth he was well aware of it.

My knees became unsteady, and I grabbed for a branch of the hedgerow not to faceplant. When had been the last time he had looked at me like that?

Harry said something in a low voice. I strained my ears. Was he telling her sweet nothings?

No, he was talking about "triple condensed potions" and "repeating the series", so it was all about his damned project. However, by the way Greengrass hung to each word he said you'd think he was reciting Shakespeare's love sonnets to her. She giggled, bent forward and touched Harry's arm in a brief gesture. I had no idea what was so funny about their mutual project, but Greengrass obviously thought so, and Harry lapped up every giggle. He leaned forward and picked a dead baby apple out of her hair as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

My chest tightened. I blinked a few times at the couple on the swing. No, that couldn't be true, I was in a nightmare and would wake up in my bed any second.

I blinked again. The image before my eyes didn't fade.

I retreated behind the hedgerow and slumped down on a bench in the shadow. My movements were slow and sluggish, as if my bones were filled with lead, and my heart seemed like a cold stone in my breast.

What was I supposed to do now?

I closed my eyes and leaned back. From behind the hedgerow the soft sound of Greengrass' laughter, mixed with Harry's deeper chuckles, wafted over to me. Each of his chuckles cut into my heart like a knife.

My eyes stung, and there was a pain in my throat, yet I refused to cry as the truth settled in.

It was over. I'd lost Harry to Greengrass. He might not have cheated on me with her, but the way he was heading was obvious to see for anyone with eyes in their heads.

Worst of all, I had no-one else than myself to blame for that.

Hermione had been right, she'd been spot on with every word she'd said to me during our Sunday brunch. I'd driven Harry away by my obvious disinterest in the things important to him, and Greengrass had been there to fill the gap. Even when I'd finally realised where we were heading, my attempts to rescue our relationship had been half-hearted, at best.

Had there been a part in me that had given up right from the beginning since I thought I could never measure up to what Harry was expecting from me? Come to think of that, wasn't it a bit unfair of him to expect from me to become the perfect hostess for political parties when all I ever wanted was playing Quidditch and taking care of my family after my active career was over?

Or maybe it was just because our goals in life were too different to accommodate them without one of us having to give up on their dreams?

I bent forward and covered my face with the palms of my hands. Looking for the reasons of my dreams shattering into tiny pieces was an exercise in futility when I had to come to grips with the harsh truth.

It was over.

Harry needed and expected more from the woman by his side than I was able to give him. Staying with him meant giving up on my own dreams, and I wasn't ready for that. In the end, we'd both be miserable.

Neither of us deserved that, and there was only one way to get out of this downward spiral. Since Harry seemed not yet to have realised what was happening, it fell on me to give both of us the easy way out before things became ugly.

My chest tightened, and the pain in my throat intensified. Oh Merlin, why in the world did it have to hurt that much? I bit on the insides of my cheeks to hold back the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes.

It seemed like an eternity to me until the pressure lessened, and I pulled my hands off my face.

My mind made up, I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and got up to join the party once again.

 **The End**


End file.
